


"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

by Boyswhofellout



Series: 25 Days of Ambrollins [22]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, ambrollins - Freeform, past relationship, post-Shield breakup, this is probably the saddest thing ive ever written, yikes im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boyswhofellout/pseuds/Boyswhofellout
Summary: Seth and Dean spend the holiday missing each other.





	"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

**Author's Note:**

> Day 22 of 25 for 25 Days of Ambrollins.

“ _ I’ll be home for Christmas _

_ You can plan on me _

_ Please have snow and mistletoe _

_ And presents on the tree _

_ Christmas Eve will find me _

_ Where the lovelight gleams _

_ I’ll be home Christmas _

_ If only in my dreams” _

The song played in the empty dinner that Seth sat in. The time on his phone read sometime past midnight. Hell, it could be 2 in the morning, but all he knew was that it was late and he was drunk. He thought, maybe, just maybe, if he drank enough, the pain in his chest would stop. He knew better, though, he knew he did, but he did it all the same. He thought that if he consumed enough of the alcohol, he’d forget his betrayal. That may be, he’d wake up and it all would have been a dream. Dean would be asleep beside him in the bed, Roman would be fast asleep in the room right next door. The Shield would be the most dominant faction WWE has ever seen, the thought of betraying his best friends, and the man he loved, never so much as a thought of a thought in his mind.

But instead, here he was, Christmas Eve, drunk and all alone in this stupid, sad excuse for a diner. It was the closest thing open near the bar he’d attempted to drink away his pain in, so he slipped into a tattered up booth and ordered a black coffee. It only made him a bit soberer, and that was the last thing he wanted to be, but there was nowhere else to go and he was all out of alcohol at his swanky condo seeing as he drank it all the night before. Yeah, you could say Seth was in a bit of a funk.

_ “I should call him.” _ Seth thought, looking at his phone that sat on the table,  _ “I should just call him and apologize and everything will be alright. We can be The Shield again, Dean and I can be together like we were meant to be.” _ He picked up the phone and unlocked it, his heart clenching at his phone background picture. He kept his phone very close to him, never letting anyone anywhere near it because if they looked at it for just a moment they’d know that his phone background was of him and Dean from when they first got together. He should change it, he knew he should, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He stared back at the picture, the alcohol blurring his vision, but the hold that Dean’s photographed eyes had on him cut him deep. They looked back at Seth, looking deep into Seth’s damaged, blackened soul, and he could almost hear Dean: “Why, Seth? Why would you do this to us? To The Shield? To me? How could you be so selfish, how could you betray the one man you ever truly loved?”

Seth scoffed and threw down his phone, which was probably for the best. Sober Seth didn’t know what to say to Dean to make any of this better, so why did drunk Seth think he knew any better? He just sat there, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular when the waitress working came over. “Sir,” she said softly, “I called you a cab. It’s waiting for you outside to take you home.” She was silent for a second, “You look like you could use a good night’s rest.”

Seth gave a small laugh, “Sure could. But I’ll never sleep soundly again, not when my bed is empty. It didn’t use to be, it used to have him in it, laying right there next to me, but not anymore. I screwed it all up, I screwed it up and he’ll never forgive me,” Seth slurred. For a moment, he forgot he was talking to someone and not himself, “Sorry, what do you care? Thank you for the cab,” he said. He pulled out his wallet and smacked down a ten, “Keep the change.” He scooted out of the booth and grabbed up his phone, then made his way towards the door.

“Sir?” the waitress called. Seth turned to look at her, regretting his decision to spin around so abruptly. “I don’t know what you did, but I’m sure it couldn’t hurt to apologize anyway. He may not forgive you, but it’s certainly a start,” she said. Seth gave her a sad, small smile. Oh, if she only knew, but he nodded at her and then headed out into the cold air and into the taxi. He slurred his address to the cab driver and then let his head fall against the headrest.

The cab pulled away once Seth exited, Seth having paid the driver much more than fare, but who cares? He had cash to blow since sold out. He really was taking advantage of all the money he’d recently come into. A nice car that he hardly ever drove, a nice penthouse in the center of the city in Davenport, Iowa, nice suits and clothes and shoes, the works. He had all the money in the world, but for what? 

He trudged into his apartment, the elevator opening right into the living room, and then made his way towards his wildly expensive and lavish couch. He flopped down, kicking off his shoes as he went. He turned and stared at the high ceiling, his foggy mind clearing by the minute. What else could he do but let the alcohol fade away? He didn’t have any hidden away and there was no liquor store open within a five-mile radius. He gazed around his nicely furnished loft and felt his heart crumble. Roman and Dean would have loved the place, it was so cool. Seth’s mind wandered to all the crazy, fun nights the three of them would have had in a place like this. The pool table would have had to have been replaced by now, the bar stocked full of both expensive and cheap beer instead of top-shelf liquor that Seth was already out of, the couch much more warn in that it was right now. 

All the missed opportunities and Seth wanted to beat himself up with every new thought. He wondered what the other two men were doing right now. Probably fast asleep, their lives going just fine without Seth, both of them probably long over the whole thing. Seth wiped away the tear he hadn’t realized had fallen down his face and the turned over, clutching a pillow to his chest in hopes that maybe it would provide some comfort. It didn’t, of course, and Seth fell asleep wishing to God it was Dean in his arms and not come stupid, cold, uncomfortable pillow.

 

~~

 

Dean sat on the couch of the Reigns house, JoJo sitting at his feet playing with the new dolls Dean had given her for Christmas. Roman and Galina were in the kitchen whipping up Christmas day dinner, Christmas music on blast in the other room as they worked. Dean wasn’t big on posting on social media, he actually hated the entire concept of the thing, but JoJo just looked so fricken cute playing happily with her new toys, Dean just had to snap a picture. He posted it to Instagram and already likes were pouring in. He shook his head and threw his phone down on the couch.

“Wanna a beer?” Roman asked as he entered. He already knew the answer was yes, but hey, formalities or whatever. Roman handed Dean the unopened beer bottle, an open one in his other hand, and then sat down next to his best friend. Dean opened the bottle and then clinked it against Roman’s. “Merry Christmas, buddy,” Roman said.

“Merry Christmas, Uce,” Dean replied. The two took a sip of their drinks and they both sighed. Dean’s phone screen lit up with notifications, friends and family sending him ‘Merry Chrismas’ texts and what not. Roman’s attention was caught by the device and he sighed.

“Still haven’t changed that, I see,” he commented, referring to Dean’s lock screen.

Dean grabbed up his phone and shoved it in his pocket, “It was changed for a while, thanks very much. I just -” he sighed, ”It’s harder around the holidays, you know that.”

Roman gave a sad sigh, “I know man, I know,” he patted Dean’s leg a few times, “Sorry, man.”

Dean frowned, mostly to himself, but also at Roman. He acted like Seth’s betrayal didn’t bother him anymore, putting on a good face for Dean because he knew that no matter how hurt, how upset he was about it, Dean was hurting even more. Countless night, Dean drunkenly rambled about missing Seth, even crying on Roman’s shoulder about the whole thing, but Roman was the real one and never brought it up the next day. After a while, Dean was just spitting out things he’d said a million times, but Roman listened, all the same, every time. Dean would be hopelessly, drunkenly lost without Roman. That only made him think of Seth more, wondered if he drunkenly cried about Dean, wondered who Seth ranted and cried to if anyone. 

Part of Dean hoped Seth had no one to cry to, but part of Dean also felt sorry for Seth. Dean had rough nights, nights where he just wanted to punch holes in the walls and scream until his lungs gave up, wanted to cry until he physically couldn’t cry anymore, but whenever he did Roman was right there. If Seth had those night, which most of Dean doubted he did, he had no one to be there while he let all his emotions out.

_ “I’ll be home for Christmas _

_ You can plan on me _

_ Please have snow and mistletoe _

_ And presents on the tree _

_ Christmas Eve will find me _

_ Where the lovelight gleams _

_ I’ll be home Christmas _

_ If only in my dreams” _

Dean could hear the song playing from the other room and his heart clench. He wished more than anything that for Christmas, he’d wake up and see that Seth was his present. That maybe, just maybe, he’d be back in that hotel room, Seth fast asleep beside him, Roman in the next room, The Shield still the most dominant faction WWE has ever seen. Roman felt Dean’s mood shift to the song that was on and he hoped up, exited, then came back after the song had changed.

“Sorry, man,” Roman said again softly. Dean guessed what was coming, but sighed all the same, “Why don’t you just, I dunno, text him?”

“You know I can’t, Ro. Besides, I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear from me, why would he. He’s probably at Hunter’s house living it up with his authority buddies, or whatever it is those bastards do. He doesn’t want to or need to hear from either of us, he made that perfectly clear.” Roman was silent and just nodded, returning his hand to Dean’s leg and gave it a reassuring squeeze, then got up to go back to helping Galina. Dean sat there, staring at nothing in particular, then pulled out his phone. He stared at the lock screen, cursing himself for changing it back to a picture of himself and Seth. They were happy, both of their eyes alight with the laughter Dean could almost hear in his head.  He looked at the eyes of Seth’s that stared back, his words repeating in his head: “Business partners… Never my brothers... “ Seth might as well have said that he never he loved Dean, it would hurt just the same. Dean wondered then and still wondered now, if Seth had ever truly loved Dean in the first place, or if their relationship was just another ‘business transaction’. 

He unlocked the phone and his thumb hovered over the undeleted conversation with Seth. Dean didn’t text enough people to make the name disappear further down the list, so Dean sat there, looking at the never-deleted conversation and then sighed, tossing his phone down on the coffee table in front of him. He always thought of what he would say, but nothing ever sat with him just right. He had so much to say, so much to ask, that instead of just a simple, quick text, Dean would end up ending an entire book, so he just never said anything.

 

~~

 

Seth’s heart crumbled to pieces as he scrolled through Instagram. He had never unfollowed Dean after his betrayal, and at this point, it was useless to do so. There, on Seth’s screen, sat JoJo on the floor of Roman’s house, her little face lit up with joy as she played with toys. Dean had posted it just a few moments ago; of course, Dean was spending Christmas at Roman’s house, why wouldn’t he be? Seth, on the other hand, was spending the holiday by himself. Hunter had invited him over to have Christmas with him and Steph and probably the other authority members, but Seth couldn’t bring himself to accept. He made up some excuse like he had plants that needed watering, but he and everyone else knew why he said no; last Christmas had been spent with the love of his life and his best friends in the world and nothing, no one, could replace them.

Seth decided that he needed a drink, or twelve, so he shoved himself up off the couch, not even bothering to change or shower, and headed out and grabbed a taxi. It dropped him at the underground, dive bar he’d been at last night. No one bothered him here, everyone else just as hopeful to bury their sorrows as he was. He entered and took the seat he’d sat at last night and didn’t even need to order; the same bartender from last night have Seth a sad, sympathetic smile as if to say ‘yeah, I know your poison already’. Seth sulked as he downed drink after drink, the bartender eventually cutting him off and sending him out somewhere around six. Or maybe it was eight, or later, or earlier, Seth had no clue. 

The cab he’d caught dropped him at the next closest bar, much to Seth’s pleasure. He was already pretty gone, but not gone enough to forget Dean, so he needed more. He sat at that bar, the bartender serving him only a few drinks before cutting him off for the second time that night. Seth then decided that it was up to him to get himself properly gone, so he had his next cab take him to a liquor store close by, bought two whole large bottles of their strongest stuff, then had the same cab drop him off at his building. 

Once inside, he made short work of the first bottle. He was impatient, he wanted to be drunk now and he just wasn’t. Oh well. He sighed happily, however, when his vision began to blur. Everything was a blur, but for some reason, he picked up on the music he didn’t remember turning on.

_ “I’ll be home for Christmas _

_ You can plan on me _

_ Please have snow and mistletoe _

_ And presents on the tree _

_ Christmas Eve will find me _

_ Where the lovelight gleams _

_ I’ll be home Christmas _

_ If only in my dreams” _

Seth could have sobbed, God he missed Dean. At this point, there was no rhyme or reason or thought or care to what he did. He messily fished out his phone and finally sent a text to Dean. He didn’t know he’d regret it in the morning, because as soon as the text was sent, he forgot that he even sent one, let alone what the content of said text was. He stumbled and tripped, falling securely onto the couch once again. He let sleep take him, happy to not be thinking about anything for once in months.

 

~~

 

**“ _Miss you. Fuck I miss you. We should be home fur Christmas together Dena.”_** Dean read the text over and over and over again. His heart stopped when he saw the works “ _ Seth: New message”  _ sprawled in a notification box on his phone lock screen. It took him a moment to actually open the text and read it, his mind reading and rereading the name trying to figure out if this was a trick his brain was playing on his eyes. “ _ I want to see it, so my brain is telling me its there.”  _ Dean reasoned in his mind. But no, even after looking at the name for about five minutes, it didn’t change; Seth had texted him. He slid open the phone and read the message, then read it again and again and again.

He couldn’t get away from that damn song, and it seemed like Seth couldn’t either. It also looked like Seth couldn’t put down the bottle last night, judging by the lack of punctuation, which Seth was always keen on, and of course the typo of Dean’s name. Dean wondered if he could text back, but it was late and since his mind was telling him to do so, he locked his phone and told his tired, 1 am brain to shut up.

When he woke up, it was around noon, and he checked his phone to see new notifications, but no new texts from Seth. Dean wondered if he was alright but then decided he shouldn't care; he did anyway. Dean went about his day, showering and going to the gym and hanging out with Roman and Jojo and Galina when they were free. He sat around and watched tv in the guest room of the Reigns house, but nothing he did took his mind off of the text Seth had sent. 

He wondered if Seth was awake and if he had realized that he went Dean a text in the first place. He pondered shooting Seth a text to check up on him but shook the idea from his head. It was getting late, dinner had already to been consumed and goodnights had been said, but Dean wondered if Ro was awake. He picked up his phone to shoot Roman a text, but shook his head and then set down the phone, turning his attention back to the tv. After about five minutes though, he picked it back up and stared at Seth’s message for the hundredth time that day.  “ _ Miss you.” _ Dean read those two little words over and over again. His heart stopped, though, when he saw three little texting bubbles pop up; Seth was typing.

**“ _I meant it,”_** was all Seth sent. Dean waited for another typing bubble to pop up, but it never came.

He sighed, and against his better judgment, started typing. **“** **_I know. Me too.”_ ** He hesitated, then pressed send. He waited for some sort of reply, some sign that Seth was typing back, but nothing ever came. Dean figured as much, but he hoped for more. An ‘I’m sorry’ or maybe ‘We should talk’ was all he wanted, all he needed to let back Seth into his life, even though he knew he should need more. He didn’t though, and he hated himself for it. All Seth had to do was make an effort, give any small sign that he was as beaten up about this as Dean was, and they’d be fine. He’d forgive Seth for everything, all he needed was a little sign that Seth felt the same way.

He phone dinged and he shamefully snatched up his phone in excitement. He could’ve cried, it was just another Instagram notification. Alright, that does it. He shot Roman a text to ask if he was awake, to which the Samoan quickly replied that he was. “ _ Need you.”  _ Dean sent. Moments later, Roman entered and wordlessly slid into the bed beside Dean. Dean handed Roman the phone and let him read the small exchange between him and Seth, tear already brimming his eyes.

Roman locked the phone and set it down, then pulled Dean close to his side. Dean let out a sob, then let it all out into the soft t-shirt Roman donned. Roman said nothing, just rubbed his friend’s shoulder and arm in comfort as he wept. Little did they know, of course, that Seth sat in his large, empty pent-house, his legs pulled to his chest, his head buried in his knees and his body racking with sobs. It was Christmas, but neither man was Merry and they certainly weren’t where they wanted to be for the holiday. They wanted to be home, but neither would admit that home was the other man’s arms. They could be home for Christmas, but only in their dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me!


End file.
